


A Danger to Himself and Others

by DaggerStar



Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Gav is just really fucked up, Gen, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Ryan is not the most fucked of the crew, suicide warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 07:03:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10962156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaggerStar/pseuds/DaggerStar
Summary: Gavin gets bored, and Ryan might have a cure.





	A Danger to Himself and Others

**Author's Note:**

> I worked pretty hard in this one, so I hope y'all enjoy. It's pretty damn dark, gotta warn ya.

   Gavin sat in one of the many tubs in the penthouse. He rested his arms on his legs and sighed. Needles and spoons were scattered all over the floor, and a dead toaster sat next to the Brit’s bare feet. The rest of the Crew all got their kicks somehow. Gavin happened to feel most alive when dying. Usually. But like all novelties, this one was beginning to wear off. He leaned his head against the wall and stared at the blood ring in the tub that had been left after draining. His wrists held nothing but thin, pink lines that, even then, were healing up. Gavin’s hair and eyebrows were black and crips at the ends. His green eyes were still ridiculously dilated and he scratched at the creases of his arms. The Brit finally closed his eyes and fell asleep after a long night.

 

   The floor was moving. No. Gavin was being moved. He opened his eyes and saw a bright red shirt. Trailing his vision upwards brought the sight of dark blonde hair with greying sides and sky blue eyes.

 

“Ry-”

 

“Shh.”

 

   The Gent carried him bridal style down the hallway. Gavin closed his eyes when the bright sunlight shone into them. The vision behind his eyes were spotted with whites and blacks, as well as wisps of red. It felt like fire and ash. When the Brit opened his eyes again, he was in his bed. He saw the gold detailing that caressed his oak bed frame and his rose gold down blanket. Gavin rolled over and buried his face in his similarly down pillows and sighed. Despite the fact that the high he used to get from dying continued to wane, he still felt its effects. It felt good. Amongst his pleasure-filled thoughts, Gavin heard the sound of a throat being cleared and darted to look at the source. Ryan was sitting there, staring at him, with an eyebrow raised.

 

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Gavin shouted.

 

   The Brit was about to stand up when he realised he was in nothing but a fresh pair of boxers and a blush grew on his tan face. He made a rather bird-like squawk and glared at the man sitting next to his bed.

 

“Your clothes were wet and blood stained,” Ryan explained with a shrug.

 

“A lot of people would call that assault, y'know.”

 

“I suppose they would.”

 

   After a moment of silence, Gavin sighed and stood up. He padded towards his large, oak closet doors and grasped the ivory knob, pulling them open. This revealed a deep walk-in closet that held an amount of clothing, shoes, and accessories that could make a king jealous.

 

“Last time I saw that much material shit was when I murdered a French model.”

 

“Who says I'm not a French model, hm monsieur Haywood?”

 

   Ryan simply stared at Gavin as Gavin pulled his typical navy blue button-up out of a pattern of shirts, as well as some dark skinny jeans from a drawer. The Brit began to dress himself.

 

“I thought I had a messed up way of having fun, but you,” Ryan chuckled, “You take the morbid cake.”

 

   Gavin remained silent as he zipped up his jeans.

 

“I didn't really get it until I went back to the tub. At first, I thought is was only drugs because that was the main thing. But then I saw the razors, and blood ring. And a toaster? Seriously?”

 

   Ryan peered over at Gavin once more, who was subtly struggling with the buttons on his shirt.

 

“Dying gets boring Gavin.”

 

“I know.”

 

   Gavin stopped trying to do up the last few buttons and put his head in his hands. He walked over to his bed and sat down, looking at his friend and crewmate.

 

“I'm bored already. I've done everything I can think of, even getting right creative with it at times. Been having nights lately where I dream of finally dying for good. Usually Michael is there to comfort me, but sometimes he's not. Causing trouble all over the gaff, no doubt.” Gavin breathed in sharply and looked outside the window closest to him, clearly fighting back tears.

 

“Come to the basement on nights like that.”

 

“Wot?! I said I was getting bored! That's not finally giving you permission to murder me!”

 

“No you idiot, not like that. I have an idea that _does_ have to do with torture though. But since you have a ridiculous gag reflex…”

 

“What do you have in mind?”

 

“Have you ever heard the saying “She talked him to death”?”

 

“Yea, why?”

 

   Ryan grinned.

 

   

   The light flickered in the basement and did little to illuminate the area.

 

“What have you done that's beneficial to the world? You call yourself a scientist, even got yourself a few degrees!” Gavin sang.

 

The man in the bathtub shivered and tears poured down his face. He stared at the small drops of water that dripped out of the rusty faucet and tried desperately to focus on that sound.

 

“But what have you done, hm? Got your wife killed because you were too scared. Got your kids taken away because your were too incompetent. And now your career is suffering. Soon, you'll be out on the streets with nothing but guilt and regret.”

 

   Gavin stalked up to his prey and crouched behind him. He gently stroked his hair and lightly traced his finger along the man's cheekbone. 

 

“You don't belong in this world anymore. You've spent your life and spent it poorly. Now you're just a waste of space and oxygen. You are a stupid excuse of a man.”

 

   The poor man in the tub could no longer listen to anything except Gavin’s sweet honey words. He lifted the razor that he was given nearly an hour ago and brought it to his wrist. Gavin smiled and rested his hand on the victim's hand.

 

“You're doing yourself and the rest of the world a favour. The first and last good thing you've ever done.”

 

   With that, the man made quick work. A long, red line formed on his arm and blood began to gush out of the wound. Gavin stepped back to admire his work. The Brit watched the light fade from the man's eyes. All because of him. Gavin had complete power over that man in that moment.

 

“I played him like a bloody fiddle!” he exclaimed.

 

“Then cut the strings.” Ryan added, walking out of the shadows.

 

“That was ten whole minutes quicker than the last poor bastard,” Gavin said with a smug expression.

 

“Shut up and let's go eat.”

 

“Hold on, mingepot. Let me admire the scene for a little while.”

 

“Fine. See you at the dinner table.”

  
   Ryan walked up the stairs and out of the basement, leaving Gavin to relish in his kill.


End file.
